


Something keeps me holding onto nothing.

by FlatTeamStructure



Category: Doctor Who (2005)
Genre: Abduction, Assault, Hurt/Comfort, Recovery, Whump
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-22
Updated: 2020-02-22
Packaged: 2021-02-27 18:42:45
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 851
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22850386
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FlatTeamStructure/pseuds/FlatTeamStructure
Summary: Bit of a dark one, Yaz recovering from a traumatic experience with her wife by her side.
Relationships: Thirteenth Doctor/Yasmin Khan
Comments: 9
Kudos: 39





	Something keeps me holding onto nothing.

**Author's Note:**

> So nothing explicit really, just quite dark and whumpy.
> 
> And also, yes I did reference a Taylor Swift song in both the title and description.

She hadn't moved. 

She'd stayed laying there in her bed for days now, since they'd found her. The Doctor had tried everything to rouse her, but she stayed where she was. Only speaking when prompted, and not even then sometimes. 

The Doctor had resorted to accidentally on purpose spilling some coffee on the sheets the day before. Giving her an excuse to change them. But even then her wife stood for only a few seconds while she took off the sheet and put on a new one.

In truth she was slightly motivated by the fact that the sheets were pure white, and it only served to empathise her wife's bruised skin. 

And her bruised skin only served to remind The Doctor that she'd failed to protect her. Failed to protect her own wife. 

\------------------------------------------------------------------

Yaz watched The Doctor as she walked on egg shells around her. She didn't lay in their bed, for fear of scaring her. She didn't leave the room for more than ten minutes at a time. The Time Lord didn't know what to do. And Yaz didn't know what she was meant to do, didn't know how to carry on. 

She didn't want to get up out of bed, she didn't want to talk about it, she didn't want any of that. She wanted to go back, to pretend none of it had ever happened. Something the Doctor had considered making a reality, before deciding Yaz deserved so much more than to be forced to forget what had happened to her. 

Yaz just wanted to be able to look at her wife and not see the guilt painted all over her face, wrongly placed guilt for actions she had no control over. 

"Doctor." She'd finally managed to croak out after a week. Talking making her feel like someone was punishingly rubbing sandpaper against her vocal cords. She'd looked straight over as soon as Yaz spoke.

"Yaz," The Doctor's lips turned up into a slight smile, not a happy one, but one to encourage her wife.  
"Doctor." She'd repeated, as though getting used to the unfamiliar word again.  
"Do you need anything? Does something hurt? Or is it the light? Is it to bright again?" The Doctor ran through possibilities in her head. Yaz had needed a long time to adjust to the light in the room, and The Doctor had been slowly raising the blackout blinds everyday, a few inches more each time, hopeful she'd be used to daylight is in a few weeks. Ready to finally go outside when she was well enough. 

Yaz shook her head suddenly embarrassed. She felt such a failure. Her wife was having to do everything for her. Having to treat her like a baby. All because she was incapable of looking after herself. 

"Can you," She paused looking down ashamed, she shouldn't have to ask her wife to hold her hand. But she could tell The Doctor had been to concerned about how she'd react to touch her. She again tried to ask but found her lips just kept opening and no words ever left. So instead she just reached out her hand, desperate for contact. The Doctor could make her feel better. She always could make her feel better. Even if it was only a minuscule amount of comfort, it was something, it was a start. She needed her. 

The Doctor looked at the outstretched hand as she felt a tear form. Normally she'd reach straight up and wipe it away. But instead she slowly lowered herself to be sat on the bed with her wife, so they were at the same level, so Yaz wouldn't perceive her as a threat, and she took the hand in her own. Tangling their fingers together, and gently squeezing.

She noticed for the first time a faint red burn circling the finger where her wedding ring used to sit. Yaz noticed her looking as well, and went to pull away again, but The Doctor held on, gently keeping a hold of her hand.  
"I'm sorry," Yaz apologised, her voice desperate, as though expecting to be punished again.  
"Nah, no, not your fault. Don't say sorry."  
"But we're married and I let them take-"  
"You didn't let them take anything." The Doctor concentrated on the burn as she spoke, and Yaz watched gold dust appear around her hand as she suddenly felt pins and needles take over her hand, as she watched the burn slowly disappear, replaced by smooth flawless skin.

"A ring can be replaced, you can't." She let go of her hand for a few moments, reaching behind her to undo the latch on her necklace, taking the ring hanging from the chain off.  
"You can't, that's yours." Yaz shook her head, when she took her hand again, moving to put the ring on her finger.  
"Course I can." The Doctor insisted , sliding it on, glad she'd opted for a ring completely identical to Yaz's that she could wear around her neck, next to her hearts she'd said at the time.  
"I can replace that, I can't replace you Yasmin Khan."

**Author's Note:**

> So this was a bit longer with a bit more explanation of what happened to Yaz, but I felt it broke up the rhythm of the fic a bit and it made the fic a lot darker so I left it out, but if anyone is interested I might put it on my tumblr so review and let me know.
> 
> Thank you for reading, let me know what you think.


End file.
